


Please Come Home To Me

by AkumaStrife



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Drabble, Gen, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkumaStrife/pseuds/AkumaStrife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time someone leaves, Stiles can't help but worry that they won't come back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Come Home To Me

“I gotta go,” Scott says, tugging a clean shirt over his head and checking his hair for the thirty-thousandth time. “Date with Allison.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and shoots the mini foam ball into the basket hanging on the back of Scott’s door. “Yeah, yeah. How could I forget when you’ve brought it up every 5 minutes since we got here?” He’s not really upset. They’re sixteen and Scott’s finally landed himself a date. He’s happy for his best friend. But still…

Scott laughs and grins his puppy smile. “I’ll be back later, don’t wait up.” He grabs his jacket and keys and bounds out the door.

Stiles tries to remember to breathe, ears straining to catch Scott’s movements until the front door slams loudly and the car tears out of the driveway. He sits at the end of Scott’s bed and links his fingers together tightly, squeezing until the bones creak but still he doesn’t let go. His heart thrashes wildly in his chest. 

“It’s fine. You’re fine. He’ll be back,” Stiles mutters under his breath. Tries to laugh but it gets stuck in his throat and comes out more like a choked sob. He tries to tell himself Scott will be back again, but he can’t form the words without losing it. He sits there and shakes, his fingers bruising. 

*

 

His dad shrugs on his jacket and clips his holster. The badge reflects light like a real star. Stiles watches from the kitchen table with haunted eyes; fingers tight around his pencil, his homework spread out around him. 

At twelve he’s old enough to do his work and put himself to bed while his dad’s out on patrol. 

The Sheriff looks up at him and smiles. “Alright kiddo, I’m off. Mrs. Nelson is just next door if you need anything.”

Stiles presses his knees together under the table and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. The Sheriff ruffles his hair, his boots heavy on the floor as he walks to the front door. 

“I’ll be back in the morning. Be responsible, okay?” The door closes with a final sound and the lock clicks loudly in the empty house. 

Stiles drops his pencil and it rolls across the sheets of graph paper and clatters to the floor. He tries to swallow but his tongue feels too thick and dry. The room starts to spin and he realizes he’s about to hyperventilate; gasping as he drags in shuddering breath after breath. He clamps both hands over his ears and squeezes his eyes shut, grinding his teeth too tightly. 

“Don’t cry,” he pleads. “He’ll be back. He always comes back. Stop crying.”

The empty house echoes his words back at him. Except… it’s not his voice anymore and its saying  _and what if he doesn’t?_

*

Stiles is six and playing with Legos on the living room. Mrs. Nelson—the nice neighbor lady who has too many cats in Stiles’ opinion and makes really yummy desserts—sits knitting on the couch. She smiles when Stiles looks up at her, but it’s sad and tight and he doesn’t understand why. 

His parents come down the stairs, his mother thin and her hair piled on top of her hair but still so beautiful, and his dad’s arm around her waist. He has her bag in his other hand and won’t look at him. His mother crouches down and kisses his forehead. He beams and inhales the lingering scent of her shampoo. She smiles at him, eyes searching his face for something he won’t understand until much later. 

“I’ll be back before you can miss me, promise. You be good, okay?”

Stiles nods enthusiastically. 

“Goodbye, Baby. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mommy.”

His dad helps her with her shoes and pulls the door shut. The sound echoes through the hall and Stiles hesitates.

It doesn’t open again for a very long time. 


End file.
